Going Home
by Maddy Carr
Summary: He felt as though he were an anchor of a stormtossed boat lost far out at sea. OneShot. There is another way to journey to the West. Sam and Frodo friendship. AU


Author summary: "Sam…I've…I've reached the end", the voice wavering, perhaps the last tendrils of fear surrendering to inevitability. "It's time for me to go."

One-Shot. There is another way to journey to the West. Sam and Frodo friendship. AU

Category: Angst. Big time.

Rating: PG

Warning: Character death.

Disclaimer: Don't own, never have, never will. Respect.

_"There's a special providence in the fall of a sparrow". Hamlet Act V scene ii_

Going Home

"Sam?"

Sam started; the quietness had been so complete…

"Yes, Sir?"

There came a pause, a slow intake of breath, a longer release - softer than a sigh.

"My dearest Sam…" the voice trailed.

Samwise Gamgee swallowed heavily. All unawares, it seemed that the tension that had coiled in his belly for days had snapped tight like the rope on a full well-bucket. Fear gripped him, a fear unlike any he had known in all the long years.

"Sir…"

A hand fumbled; Frodo's uncertain fingers encircled Sam's thumb, the grip surprisingly strong.

"Sam…I've…I've reached the end", the voice wavering, perhaps the last tendrils of fear surrendering to inevitability. "It's time for me to go."

A thousand denials clamoured in Sam's mind. His own fear could not be resigned so easily. A chasm seemed to be opening with him. He felt the pain of it in his belly and chest.

"Oh Frodo. Me dear…me dear". The words seemed torn from him, his voice unrecognisable.

Dark eyes blinked at him compassionately.

"You know it Sam."

Elbereth help him, he did, but…it was too soon, oh it was too soon. Compulsively, he pulled the clinging fingers and grasped them tight between his palms. Blindly, he rested them against his forehead as the first sob tried to claw up his throat.

"Ah, Sam…don't…"

Oh, how could he bear the tenderness in that voice? His body shuddered briefly, then resettled and he felt as though he were an anchor of a storm-tossed boat lost far out at sea. If he were just strong enough, solid enough…

_Don't go, don't go, don't go_

…but he felt the first tears on his face and knew his denials were fading. Nevertheless, he was not a hobbit who surrendered willingly and his hands clutched tighter still.

The last dying rays of the sun.

He was surprised he heard Frodo's next words through the pounding of blood in his ears.

"I've…I've been blessed, Sam."

All other sounds faded. A stillness gripped him. Astonishment, terror.

"I've been blessed."

The fingers moved against his palm and only then did he dare to lift his head. Calm eyes regarded him. Calm. Peaceful.

"How can you…?" Sam's voice was choked; he felt the plaintive high-pitched quality more than heard it. He was astounded all over again when a faint gentle smile appeared on Frodo's pale lips.

"I know where I'm going, Sam."

Sam breathed out on a quiet sob, entranced by the light in those beloved eyes.

"Do you, dear Master?"

He felt something give way in his heart, made provident by that quiet certainty.

"I can hear the singing over the water…"

Frodo's eyes wavered, looked beyond…and, Oh, Sam could still fear after all, caught and breathless in the death-like hush that followed.

"Can, you?", he whispered brokenly.

Frodo's fingers felt cool, insubstantial. Sam held them carefully. The eyes refocused slowly, tenderly. He could not bear it. Sam closed his own against the prickling in his eyes, against the knowledge of what was to come.

"Tell me what you see, Sam?" The words were faint, but not immune from a touch of fear after all, it seemed.

_I'm with you; I'm always with you_

This was how it was to be, then. At his Master's side at the end of all things.

"I see…I see grey clouds", he began.

A small sigh.

"…but light shines through the rain."

Fingers gentled in his grasp.

Sam turned his head, rested his temples against their tangled hands. He opened his eyes and saw the pale half-moon rising through the bedroom window.

"The cloud breaks and…and turns all to silver," he whispered. His heart was breaking.

"…I can see white shores on the horizon…"

But a heart could not be shattered when it held such a precious thing as this. The gift of a peaceful end.

He never knew how long he talked, or what he spoke of, but when he stopped, the moon had passed beyond his gaze and cast the room into darkness and silence.

When he could bring himself to turn his head, he saw Frodo's face gently illuminated, as though all the blessings of Valinor had passed into him and were shining through, for it was surely too much for the fragile body to contain. And on that dear face was a peace so free from pain, that Sam could no longer deny the grace of that release.

Rosie found him there, hours later.

Stifling her first sob of grief, she tended to her husband first, for the other in the room had no need of her help. Gently prising the cold fingers from Sam's own, she stroked his face and tenderly pressed its dampness to her bosom.

"I'm so sorry, Samwise"

Sam's beloved face moved against her and he sighed into her warmth.

"There ain't nothing to be afraid of, Rosie-love", he whispered.

She frowned and gently cupping his chin, brought his face up to her own.

"What do you mean?"

She looked closely and saw, faintly surprised, that he was not broken, as she had feared. He was almost…smiling; something awestruck lay behind the sadness of his eyes.

"He didn't go where I can't follow after all."

Rosie sucked in a breath, sharply, fearfully.

Sam truly smiled then.

"But the following's not today, Rosie-love, nor for a long time to come."


End file.
